


For You I'll Keep Fighting

by 87sighs



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Shooting Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/87sighs/pseuds/87sighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s absolutely no way she would knowingly let Annalise go through this alone.</p><p>Maybe she’s callous for caring more about the woman who was shot than the dead one or the one about to hand her life over to the State but…there’s only one woman she loves.</p><p> </p><p>Prequel to <i>I Just Want You for My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thought I to be the one  
To swim against the current,  
Swim against the force,  
The force that pulls one down.

 _Bleeding Rivers_ , Copper Wimmin

 

++

 

“We need you.”

There’s no other greeting, and Eve knows something is wrong. She presses the heel of her hand between her eyes trying to rouse herself awake.

“Okay. Sinclair again? I can be there tomorrow,” she says, pushing up onto her elbow to glance at the clock.

“No, listen, this can’t wait.” Nate pauses, and Eve can hear him breathe harshly over the phone. “Sinclair’s dead.”

Eve’s heart stops. Her head buzzes trying to digest the information. Emily Sinclair is dead. An Assistant District Attorney is dead, and—he said _we_.

“Shit. Where’s Annalise?”

“Look, she didn’t do it. I didn’t do it – okay? – but….”

Her chest feels tighter by the second. She hears the scrape of booted feet against concrete, deep breaths belying the measured calmness of Nate’s words. Eve pushes to her feet, already making plans.

“It’s bad, Eve. She’s hurt.”

And just like that the urgency that was spurring her on gives way to almost paralyzing fear. Her movements slow, and she hears a voice that seems too weak to be her own repeat, “She’s hurt?”

Nate doesn’t answer. Tears gather in her eyes.

“She’ll be okay,” he says gently, and Eve hopes with everything in her being that he’s right. “I can take care of things for now on the police side, but this is going to be big.”

Shutting her eyes tight, Eve exhales, willing herself to think rationally instead of with her heart right now. “Yeah…yeah.” She traps her phone between her ear and shoulder as she moves about the dimly lit bedroom. “Nate, I need to know what’s going on.”

He sighs. “I don’t even know everything-”

“Just tell me as much as possible.”

++

It’s not until she’s on her way to Philadelphia in the pitch blackness of night that Eve allows herself to think about how big of a mess this really is. Annalise is hurt – _shot_ , a cruel voice reminds her, and Eve’s hands clench in response – and the woman who had a persistent vendetta against her is dead. A woman who Eve had crossed in court, not once but twice. It doesn’t take a legal genius to understand that the police and DA’s office will commit every resource to this case with a heavy focus on Annalise Keating.

There is absolutely no way they can make Annalise into the killer, Eve is sure. Of all the things running through her mind when Nate called, that one was never a consideration. Eve knows Annalise, and Annalise doesn’t have it in her to be a murderer. Still, it was satisfying to hear Nate declare her innocence and to profess his own as well.

So that leaves her only a few hours to piece together Nate’s version of events and the little details she knows about the Hapstall case into a working narrative.

“You can do this,” Eve says aloud, voice low but strong. “She will be alright, and you’ll get through this.”

Annalise has to be alright.

++

She doesn’t run exactly, but her feet barely touch the while-tiled floor with each step. Long strides carry her through the ER wing with its sterile halls and mechanical sounds. There are only a few people in the waiting area at this late – well, early – hour, but none of them she recognizes. Eve comes to a halt at the nurses’ station.

“Excuse me.” A nurse turns in her desk chair at the sound of Eve’s voice. “I’m here for Annalise Keating. Do you know—Is she still in surgery?”

The woman sizes her up behind thick-framed glasses before checking her computer screen. “Are you family?” she asks, looking through papers on her desk.

 _Yes_. Eve shifts impatiently. “A friend.”

Nodding to herself, the nurse flips a page then looks back at Eve. “Ms. Keating’s out of surgery, but she’s still in serious condition. Do you know if there’s any family we can call? An emergency contact?”

“No, I-” Eve pauses, takes a deep breath. “I mean, I should call.”

For the first time, the nurse’s face softens. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“Thank you.” She’s too anxious to sit, has too many angles she needs to think through that won’t let her relax right now. Not that she could anyway. All Eve wants to do is be at Annalise’s side.

But there’s a thought that keeps nagging at her. Nate had given her the hospital name, but he hasn’t answered her texts since. And none of Annalise's colleagues or students are here.

“Miss,” Eve calls out to the nurse. The woman looks up at her distractedly, already moved on to another file. “Are you sure no one else has been here?”

She adjusts her glasses, thinking. “There was one man, but he was near hysterical. We couldn’t get anything out of him,” she says, eyes darting between her computer screen and Eve. “He’s been in and out all night.”

Eve can’t really imagine Nate so out of control, and he would have let her know if he’d been here – wouldn’t he? “Could you describe him?” Eve bites her lip, appearing apologetic for giving the woman the third degree.

“About average height, white man with a beard.”

Frank.

Thanking the woman for her time, Eve moves away. She forces herself to sit just for a moment. She doesn’t know much about Frank, but hysterical is not a word she’d ever think to use to describe him. Cold. Calculating. Sharp, yes, but not hysterical. There has to be a reason behind it. So what is Frank doing?

And where the hell is Nate?

++

The electric hum of the fluorescent lights and vending machines seems louder the later it gets, the more Eve paces. On her third trip to the little alcove another person approaches behind her, stopping to buy a soda.

“You want anything?”

Eve starts to politely decline only realize the friendly stranger is actually Frank – Annalise’s right-hand man looking like he’s simply on a lunch break from his boring eight-hour-a-day job. There’s a lock of hair falling across his forehead, his face drawn tight, and it’s a well-fit mask of concern.

“I didn’t know she called you.” His drink rattles loudly down the chute. Eve doesn’t correct him, just watches as he flicks at the tab of the aluminum can with his thumb. “I guess she was more worried than she let on,” he says, more subdued.

“Frank-”

“So are you up to speed?”

Hands pushed deep in her pockets, Eve nods. “For the most part,” she says even though she’s barely seeing the tip of the iceberg. But she knows Frank’s not the type to divulge secrets so she holds her tongue for now. “Should I know what you’re doing?”

A roguish grin spreads across his face. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Normally she wouldn’t accept such a non-answer, but nothing about this situation is remotely normal.

Frank hangs in the waiting room – off by himself near one wall – only long enough to finish his drink then he disappears.

Whatever his part of the plan is, she’s positive that it’s in her best interest not to know.

++

She watches the two police detectives approach before they’re even aware of her. Eve checks her watch – a little after 3 am, roughly thirty minutes since her last update from the nurse on duty. Still in serious condition but stable. The nurse was optimistic that the doctors would approve Annalise’s transfer to a regular room soon.

 _Stable_. That’s the buoy that Eve clings to.

She’s looking at news articles from the last few days. Making note of the time, Eve watches from the corner of her eye as the desk nurse points the two men in her direction. They’re all rumpled shirts and pinched lips. Eve pushes off the wall as they walk closer, straightens the kinks in her spine.

“Ma’am,” the one with graying hair starts, barely pausing long enough for him and his partner to flash their badges. “The hospital informs us that you’re here to see Annalise Keating.”

“That’s right.”

“Can we get your name, ma’am?” This one is shorter, and Eve notices he could do with adjusting his posture as well. He smooths out his tie and looks at Eve with droopy eyes.

“Eve Rothlo.”

She opens her mouth to continue, but the first cop interrupts. “And how do you know the vic- Ms. Keating?”

Eve can practically see him marking each bullet point on his How to Question a Potential Witness cheat sheet.

“I’m a friend,” she says looking directly at Mr. Cheat Sheet. Something about his demeanor is off-putting.

“Are you a lawyer here in town?”

“No, I live in New York.”

Belatedly, Detective Droopy takes out a notepad and scribbles down what Eve has said so far. “So, uh, how did you find out about the incident?”

“One of Annalise’s colleagues called me – Bonnie Winterbottom,” Eve supplies, mentally sliding the two puzzle pieces together. It’s true, at least, even though Eve was actually the one to initiate the contact through Nate. There’s almost no chance that the police will actually get access to her phone, but the detail is still an important part of the narrative.

They finish the routine questioning fairly quickly, parting with the standard “We’ll contact you if we have anymore questions.”

Watching them go, Eve releases a calming breath.

It isn’t going to get easier.

++

She’s flirting with sleep when Bonnie walks in, fresh clothes completely at odds with the stiffness of her gait, the expression on her face. Eve sits up straighter as Bonnie comes over.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, you being here.”

“I know.” Eve tries to read Bonnie’s eyes, wondering if her discomfort is at Eve’s presence. She’s aware of the young attorney’s loyalty to her boss, so it’s understandable that she wants to follow Annalise’s instructions to the letter. “But I’m here now. Someone has to run point on this while…until Annalise is better.”

Bonnie simply nods.

Eve slides her arm across the back of the chairs, turns her body more toward Bonnie without crowding her space. “How did questioning go?” She uses that tone of voice reserved for talking to reluctant witnesses.

“It was fine,” Bonnie says, the resolve in her voice at odds with the way her fingers twist in her lap. “We reported exactly what we were supposed to. Asher had a harder time but…he got through it. He’s waiting for me.”

Eve absorbs this news, cataloguing that everything is in place for now. Well, almost everything.

In the silence Eve notes that Bonnie hasn’t asked about Annalise. Her eyes haven’t drifted once to the information desk. There’s no flicker of dread in her eyes every time one of the doctors or nurses walks in their direction only to veer off somewhere else. Maybe it’s unease about being in a hospital at all – Eve isn’t sure.

“Annalise is doing well,” Eve starts only to shake her head at the absurdity of the situation. “Well, considering. She’s stable. They’re planning to move her to a regular room later today.”

“I’m not staying.” Her voice is monotone, defiant like she’d made the decision before she even walked through the ER doors.

“Okay. I’ll update you when I can then,” she offers.

Bonnie doesn’t respond or meet Eve’s concerned eyes. Instead she pulls out a set of keys. They jangle loudly in the open room as Bonnie twists one around the ring until it’s free. She thrusts it toward Eve.

“Here. You can get her some clothes and things from home.”

Eve takes it and murmurs her thanks. Bonnie is quick to get up from her seat.

“You can call me if anything comes up,” Eve says. Bonnie makes eye contact, nodding once to acknowledge Eve’s words, and then she leaves.

The sharp edges of the key bite into Eve’s palm. Despite her interrupted sleep and the long trip and her worry, she is fully awake.

++

Nate finally texts her back with a short message: Parking lot.

There’s a lingering spring chill in the air, but it feels pleasant compared to the icebox of the hospital. The faintest pre-dawn light is just peeking though. Eve spots Nate leaning against his police cruiser.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t text you back. It-”

“Tell me I’m not wrong about you, Nate.”

She hadn’t settled on what she would say when she saw him, but in this moment she needs the assurance. Eve can already sense that this night has taken a toll on him – the way he sags against the car, the redness of his eyes – but she needs to hear his words and believe them.

Eve remembers promising Annalise that she would take care of him, and she’ll do it again regardless of the circumstance…unless there’s the slightest chance that he has some ulterior motive. If it means protecting Annalise, she’ll go back on her word in a heartbeat with no regret.

Judging by the way he stands a little straighter, Nate catches on to the challenge in her voice. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I can’t get in touch with you for hours – no call, text, nothing – and you haven’t stepped foot in this hospital once. None of you have,” she bites out. “And Bonnie looked like she’d rather be anywhere than here, like she hardly cares what happens to her. It’s all just a little strange to me, so you’ll have to forgive me for being suspicious.”

Eyes hardened, Nate stares daggers at her. He growls out, “If you’re accusing me of something, you better say it.”

“I’m not yet. Should I?” Eve doesn’t look away, doesn’t back down.

Nate takes a step closer just outside Eve’s personal space, intense but not threatening. It gives Eve no option but to look directly into his dark eyes.

“I’m only going to say this once. I _did not_ hurt Annalise.” His tone low, he punctuates each word for her to take in. “And I wasn’t part of whatever happened. If it was me, why would I call you?”

“It wouldn’t be the worst idea – get me down here, keep me in the dark until it’s too late to realize I was on the wrong side,” she says with no real conviction anymore. It’s far-fetched, she knows, but the longer Eve had to sit and wait, the wilder her thoughts became. She wouldn’t put it past Annalise to stay silent to protect someone out of a sense of obligation. Hell, she’s already protecting one murderer. Eve believes Annalise is doing it for good reason, but that doesn’t change the facts.

It’s scary to think—well, that’s all there is to it. She’s scared.

Eve swallows, trying to reign in her emotion. It won’t do any good to be so on edge. “I’m sorry. I just….” She closes her eyes and focuses on deep breathing.

“I’m on your side here. Her side,” Nate insists, and Eve believes him. He backs away, letting some of the tension between them die out. “Look, there’s a lot that’s happened that you don’t know about. This started way before Sinclair. I’m trying to figure things out as much as you,” he says when Eve looks his way.

Sighing, Eve nods in acceptance. For now she has to think about their most pressing problems. “I don’t suppose you want to confess to Sinclair’s murder? I’m sure I can get you off.”

“Hell no,” Nate objects immediately. “You’ve got a twisted sense of humor.” He doesn’t look amused, but Eve is glad he takes it for the joke it was meant to be. The leather of his jacket creaks as Nate shifts, burying his hands in pockets. “How is Annalise?”

She chews her lip nervously. “The doctors got her stabilized. She’s not conscious yet, but they’re optimistic.” Nate doesn’t respond, so she lets him process on his own. Her head is starting to hurt and she rubs at her temple. “What happened in that house?” She asks mostly to herself.

“I don’t know, but something definitely went wrong. They were way too spooked,” he says, and Eve knows he’s referring to Annalise’s students.

“So you’ve been with her interns this whole time?”

“Yeah. Would you really want them running around on their own?”

There’s a lingering defensiveness in his answer, and Eve holds out her hand apologetically. “No, you’re right.”

“They don’t know I called you.”

She turns to him, and Nate gazes back. Eve has a feeling that they’re on the same page. “Can you get them all to the house later?”

++

It’s after eight in the morning when a nurse finally gives Eve the good news that Annalise is in a regular recovery room. She’s calm and friendly as she offers to escort Eve to the room and let her sit with Annalise for a little while, door open. Considering how many policies she’s probably breaking, Eve won’t complain.

Nate had already left – reluctantly, Eve could tell, but she didn’t pry about where – so she texts him and Bonnie about Annalise’s status. It gives her something to focus on other than her pounding heart and leaden steps.

At the door, Eve already has tears in her eyes, throat tight as she tries to brace herself. The nurse pats her arm and says a few more things, but Eve honestly doesn’t comprehend the words. All she sees is Annalise.

The nurse leaves, giving them some privacy. Eve is rooted to the spot. Annalise is so still, her chest barely moving with life. But that’s what Eve focuses on – Annalise’s breathing – not the tubes and wires and machines. Vision swimming, Eve moves forward with timid steps and pulls a chair closer to the bed. She takes Annalise’s hand, careful of the IV line taped to the back of it. Right away she notices the coolness, how the skin feels dry. Eve grasps it with both of her own, rubbing her hands gently to impart some warmth.

“You always did love a challenge. Professor Charles would be proud.”

Eve’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but there’s fondness as she remembers one of their old law school instructors. Annalise would get this smug grin every time she worked through his convoluted, ridiculous hypothetical law cases, and she aced every exam. Eve excelled, too, but not as easily. She preferred things to be much more straightforward. Her shoulders sag thinking of the minefield they’re navigating now, but there’s absolutely no way she would knowingly let Annalise go through this alone.

She scoots to the edge of her seat, blinking away more tears as she looks over every centimeter of her love’s face.

“This is always how it goes in the movies, right? The old vets pull one last spectacular con then ride off into the sunset.”

She steadfastly ignores the alternative – that they go out in a fiery blaze of infamous glory.

There’s no movement, no reaction, but Eve can imagine Annalise’s dark eyes rolling, her quiet laughter. Eve inhales deeply, holds it andthen releases some of her fears and tension as she lets it out.

“I’m here, Annalise. You just focus on getting better, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

++

She’s just leaving her hotel when the news breaks about the murder of ADA Emily Sinclair and the shooting of prominent local defense attorney Annalise Keating. The police have several persons of interest, but the only person being detained at this time is Catherine Hapstall.

What Eve finds out later is that Catherine was found alone and disoriented in the woods, blood on her clothes, and allegedly no memory of what took place at her mansion. It’s so unlikely and convenient that the discovery barely phases Eve.

 _You’ll find out soon enough_.

++

It feels wrong to be in Annalise’s house without her. It’s too dark, too quiet, reeking of secrets and unhappiness. Eve focuses on her task, getting socks and toiletries and other things Annalise might need. She drags her fingers across the bedspread. Despite the fact that Annalise shared this room with her husband – now-dead husband – for years, Eve has only good memories of her and Annalise’s one night here.

Annalise had been so vulnerable, so hurt, and Eve was fully prepared to apologize and be pushed out of Annalise’s life for good. Instead they both laid it on the line, and Annalise had assuaged a fear that haunted Eve for two decades – that Eve hadn’t meant nearly as much to Annalise as Annalise meant to her. No, Annalise felt more than she was ready to handle, and hearing that left Eve speechless. And the tenderness and love in this very bed later that night was like coming home.

Against all odds, Eve wants to get to that place again.

Back downstairs, she looks around Annalise’s office. Orderly is one word to describe it. All that a person needs to run a law practice, nothing out of place and few personal touches to speak of. That could describe the whole house.

The leather chair is pushed away from the desk. Eve can picture the cold glare and commanding presence as Annalise sizes up a client. Gently Eve slides it back into place.

She opens a few drawers, resisting the temptation to read through Hapstall case notes or anything dealing with Sinclair. She does have some legal ethics. Eve settles for packing Annalise’s recorder and heads back to the hospital.

++

It’s hard for Eve to pinpoint what she feels watching Nate sit stoically beside Annalise. Jealousy is too basic. She’s accepted the fact that he means a great deal to Annalise, and the felling is mutual judging by the emotion shining in his eyes. There’s a hurricane swirling around her, and she’ll need help to get through it – not that Annalise would admit that. But Eve is here, Nate is here, and Annalise will have that support twofold.

But a part is admittedly jealous of his place in Annalise’s life. She’s only human, after all. She lives in another state, has memories and experiences from another life while Nate is only minutes away. He gets the benefit of here and now. Can Eve say that Annalise would have asked for her help? Or mentioned that she was in pain the next time that Eve called? She can’t know for sure, and it hurts to think of how easily she could be on the outside looking in.

So it’s with mixed emotions that Eve averts her eyes. She steps further into the hospital room, and Nate gives her a nod in greeting as she sits.

“She woke up for a little while. Didn’t say much though,” he whispers after a few minutes. “Doctors ran some tests just to make sure there’s no brain injury, but they’re not worried. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”

Annalise woke up. That’s wonderful news yet Eve is desperate for more, yearning to see the depths of Annalise’s russet eyes herself.

Shifting in his chair, Nate braces his palm against one jean-covered leg almost like he’s holding himself upright. He looks as helpless as Eve feels.

“I’m tired of being in hospitals, you know?”

Eve glances at him, murmuring her agreement. She hasn’t spent significant time in a hospital since her father died, and that was seven years ago. Her sadness isn’t as immediate and consuming anymore. Nate’s wounds are fresher, just barely covered up.

In so many ways, there’s a long road ahead for all three of them.

++

The detectives are back to question Annalise. She doesn’t even have to see them to know. It’s Nate deep baritone outside in the hallway that alerts her. So often working on death row appeals and wrongful convictions, Eve is usually the one to track down reluctant witnesses; to petition defensive law enforcement and attorneys to turn over information for more scrutiny. It’s jarring to be on the other side of a live case.

She steps outside and closes Annalise’s door quietly. The three men are a few feet away, and technically, Nate could be visiting any number of people on this floor. Except trained detectives would never take this situation at face value.

“I suppose you’re friends with Lahey too,” the main detective calls out, stepping around the other two men and pulling her into the confrontation.

Nate casually says, “You can’t blame me for calling my attorney given everything that’s happened.”

The detectives share a moment of surprise, eyes opening just a little wider. _Ah, that woke you up_.

“I’m sorry we were never formally introduced.” Her eyebrows rise in expectation, but the men are slow to answer.

“This is Detective Dulaney and Detective Smith,” Nate informs her, pointing first at the short one then his brusque partner. Dulaney belatedly hands her one of his cards with contact information.

“So you’re representing Lahey and Keating?” Smith pins her with suspicious eyes.

“Mr. Lahey, yes, but I wasn’t aware that Ms. Keating’s being investigated for anything,” Eve answers, shaking her head.

“At this point we’re still exploring every avenue, ma’am.” It’s Dulaney this time.

Eve nods, playing nice. “Well, I guess she’ll make that decision if it comes to that.” She folds her arms and watches as the detectives share one of their silent looks. It’s an easy act for Eve – being calm and good natured without coming across as the most unsophisticated lawyer on the East Coast. Dulaney seems to accept this, but Smith is a bloodhound with a new scent.

“We’re gonna question Ms. Keating soon. She can’t sleep forever.”

“That’s between you and her doctors.”

“Are we good here, fellas?” Nate jumps in.

There’s no answer from the two men, just a frosty departure. Eve is too curious not to ask about it. “Was I imagining some bad blood between you guys?”

“No. I’ve never gotten along with Smith,” he starts quietly. Nate twists the cap of his water bottle and it strikes Eve as an oddly nervous gesture for him. “Listen, I told you about blowing up at Sinclair and threatening to sue the DA’s office, but there’s something else. I told my Captain yesterday that I might sue the police department, too, if they try to fire me over this. Right now I’m suspended indefinitely with pay.”

“Wow,” Eve exhales. “So you are really on their shit list.”

“Yeah.” His laugh is reserved, but a corner of Eve’s mouth quirks up. “They don’t know what to do with me.”

++

“If I have to hear one more _I’m sorry about Professor Keating_ ,” one of the boys complains as soon as he’s in the door, “ _I’m_ gonna murder someone.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. This is only day two.”

“God, this house gets more miserable and creepy every day,” a different girl says.

Eve knows their faces, but she can’t distinguish their voices and personalities just yet. The judgment, however, is loud and clear and it carries into Annalise’s office where Eve is waiting. She is about to learn much more about them for sure.

“We can thank Nate for this little get-together.” The boy huffs loudly. “Where is the boy toy anyway? I don’t want to be here all night.”

There’s some mumbling and shuffling but not much else. Eve’s fingers curl around the edge of the desktop before she stands and walks confidently through the doorway.

“Nate’s not coming tonight. It’s just you and me.”

The four students are visibly surprised to varying degrees. The irritated one even jumps up from his seat, although Eve realizes that’s more out of anger.

“I knew he was up to something,” the boy spits out, and Eve matches the face to the voice. Connor. “We’re cooperating. We don’t need you to remind us she’s got us by the balls.”

Eve takes a seat, crossing her legs like they don’t have a care in the world. “I’m not here to threaten you. If you wanted to tell the police, you probably would’ve done it by now.”

Connor doesn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, but he doesn’t say anything. Neither does the one hunched in the corner, eyes downcast – Asher.

Wes is noticeably absent.

Michaela’s eyes are wide and she asks, “Then why are you here?” She’s not unkind, but Eve can hear her mistrust as well.

“Where’s Wes?” She asks instead of answering. Asher and Lauren – or Laur _el_? – are nonplussed, but Connor and Michaela break eye contact.

“I couldn't reach him,” Laurel tells her. “He’ll stick with the story though.”

The red flag is massive. She’s not worried really, given the secret that she knows Annalise is keeping for him, but it does make her very uneasy. They can’t have one weak link.

“Now answer Michaela. Why are you here? You don’t even know us.”

In another circumstance, Eve would smile at Laurel’s persistence. A future lawyer at work.

“I don’t, but Annalise does. I’m here to help this go as smoothly as possible.” Eve looks at each of them, adopting a friendly tone and letting them size her up. When no objections or questions come, Eve smiles. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning.”

++

Not long before visiting hours are over, it’s just her and Annalise. The lights are dim, footfalls outside the door sporadic, and the noises of the machines in the room become white noise.

“I thought you were a dream.”

Eyes popping open, Eve leans closer on instinct. Annalise looks directly at her, tired and unfocused beneath heavy lids. It’s no doubt a combination of painkillers and her body’s own shock. Regardless, they’re the most beautiful eyes Eve has ever seen.

Eve wants deflect the emotion, joke that she’s sure Annalise says that to a lot of women. Instead it’s a simple “Hi.”

Annalise drags in a labored breath. “Hi.” She tries to adjust her body, face twisting in pain with the effort. Eve covers Annalise’s forearm and reaches for the call button to let the nurses know she’s awake. “You shouldn’t be here,” Annalise rasps.

She doesn’t answer, just softly caresses her arm until the nurse skips in to do a checkup. The young redhead monitors Annalise’s vitals and her wound, kindly giving her some information on her surgery and the litany of injuries, medications and hospital protocols. She mentions that Annalise can have an overnight visitor now that she’s awake to consent, but Annalise remains silent.

“Glad you’re here,” she says a little while later, voice somewhat slurred. Eve smiles until Annalise explains, “Not gonna remember any of that.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.” Annalise is nothing if not practical. Lips pursed, Eve sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb anything. “Annalise, do you…do you want me to call your mother or…anyone?”

“No.” She doesn’t raise her voice, but the total rejection of this idea is loud and clear. “No. She doesn’t need to know about this,” Annalise says, slowly articulating each word.

Eve promises they’ll talk about things tomorrow. Annalise squeezes her fingers weakly before falling asleep.

++

Luck.

Eve has never hated the word quite so much.

It started when she was a girl, people assigning that descriptor to Eve’s life. She was lucky to be such a pretty young girl. Then she became _beautiful_ and _gorgeous_ when her bone structure mirrored that of her mother and she gained her father’s stature with each inch she grew. Eve usually dismissed it all with polite thanks and thought nothing more of it.

Now what really annoys her is the way people – men, frankly, _men_ – draw that asterisk next to her career. It’s irritating, sometimes disrespectful, the way other professionals try to dismiss her accomplishments as if she’s just skipped through life without a care in the world. She graduated Harvard near the top of her class and passed two bar exams, outnumbered and battling sexism all along the way. She built The Exoneration Group from the ground up and made it arguably the most prominent firm in the field.

Eve has no illusions; she knows that certain factors have contributed to the national and international platform she’s given to talk about American criminal justice and public interest law – her attractiveness, yes, being white, her upper-middle-class background. Pointing out that privilege is a significant part of every lecture she gives, a necessity at every fundraiser and dinner party when some well-meaning person mistakes her for the only authority on the subjects. Her path has been smoother than many, but that doesn’t detract from her hard work and ambition.

At every turn people try to categorize her life as some sort of fairy tale. You could’ve been a model and you have a thriving law practice and – oh you’re a lesbian? – how lucky you don’t have to worry about a family. You’ve got it all.

Yet she sits in this hospital room now listening to a doctor say with all seriousness that Annalise Keating is lucky to be alive. It was fortunate that the bullet didn’t hit any organs, and it’s amazing that she found the strength to dial 911 otherwise she might have bled out in the floor. He talks about ribs and lungs, bruises, internal bleeding and infection. She’s not out of the woods by a long shot, but the damage could’ve been – _usually is_ – so much worse.

Annalise could have died, and Eve is sickened to think that luck – that meaningless, arbitrary thing – is all that stood between her and utter devastation. Eve has never hated the word more, but she’s also never been so thankful.

++

“Everything’s looking just fine, Mrs. Keating,” the doctor determines, voice just a little too loud in the small room. He scribbles some notes on the patient chart and talks with the nurse beside him before looking back at Annalise. “Now there are a couple detectives outside itching to talk to you. We’ll give you a couple minutes then let them in. If they give you any trouble, kick ‘em out. Doctor’s orders,” he finishes, giving a playful wink. Annalise fakes a smile back.

Once the door clicks shut, Annalise breathes again. She’s not the only one who needs a break. Eve’s heart lurched seeing the stitched-up hole in Annalise’s side and hearing Annalise hiss in pain as the man palpated tender ribs and stomach. Eve is honestly surprised that Annalise didn’t object to being seen in such a state.

“Do you want me to stay for the questioning?”

Annalise grunts as she adjusts the bed more upright. “No, I can handle them.” Her voice is listless, but of course she’s all business. She clucks her tongue, eyes searching the room. “I must look a mess.”

 _You look alive_.

“You look good,” Eve says aloud. And it’s true. There’s fullness to her cheeks, and her eyes are more vivid than even a few hours ago. Eve goes through the bag she brought from home and pulls out a small mirror. Annalise looks at herself, and when she starts poking at her hair Eve holds up a scarf as well.

Taking it silently, Annalise lifts her arms only to stop short when her left one barely gets shoulder level. She mashes her lips together, breathing harshly through her nose. Eve puts her hand gently on Annalise’s leg even though it’s useless comfort.

When the pain appears to lessen, Eve murmurs, “Let me.” Annalise doesn’t object. “I know what I’m doing.” She flashes her teeth with an exaggerated grin.

Annalise looks at her skeptically. “How many women have you practiced on?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teases. Annalise gives her a half-smile. Eve bites her lip as she finishes then waits for Annalise to judge her handiwork. “Don’t look so surprised,” Eve laughs when Annalise glances back at her. “I’ve seen you do it enough times to get the gist.”

Eve puts the mirror away and comes back with the digital recorder. She turns on the device, and Annalise watches as she wedges it behind the bed.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Eavesdropping.”

++

Being questioned by the detectives brings the situation back into sharp focus for Annalise, and with it comes her single-minded determination to mastermind this conspiracy on her own.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she chastises Eve. And when Nate visits, Annalise gives him the same treatment. He doesn’t even get the opportunity to sit. “Nate, you don’t need to be here. The police were just here. What if they had seen you?”

“I recognized their car outside and waited until they left.” He clears his throat. “They already know anyway.”

Annalise sighs, clearly frustrated. “I won’t cost you your job again.”

Eve begins to speak but catches the look that Annalise directs at Nate, sensitive and full of meaning. That odd feeling comes back. Eve stands, fully intending to leave and avoid the awkwardness but Annalise’s eyes shift back to her.

“You shouldn’t have let him get involved,” she says, a last flimsy objection.

“I’m an adult, Annalise,” Nate interjects. “I can make my own decisions, and I wanted to help.”

 _Actually he got me involved_ , Eve wants to remind her but doesn’t. She steps closer, giving a reassuring smile. “We’ve got it covered, I promise.”

Dark eyes shut briefly as Annalise contemplates. When she opens them again, she looks at Eve and Nate very seriously. “If you’re not going to listen, I need to know what’s happened. I need to talk to Frank and Bonnie, and I need to know what you said to my students.”

“You’ve had a long morning. Why don’t we wait-”

“Now who’s being coddled?”

The accusation would have more punch if Annalise didn’t shift at that moment, gritting her teeth at a shot of pain. But that comeback won’t work on the headstrong woman. Eve and Nate stare at each other across the bed. He faintly shrugs.

“And stop standing over me,” Annalise grumbles. “You’re both too goddamn tall.”

++

“You lied to me,” Frank accuses with fake indignation. “I should be offended.”

“Somehow I think you’ll get over it.”

++

Random shafts of hazy afternoon light peek through the window blinds casting shadows and gentle Spring heat around the room.

“Wes didn’t come yesterday,” Eve mentions. She didn’t want to bring it up in front of the others, and the way Annalise’s expression shutters tells Eve it was the smart move.

“It’s fine.”

Eve pushes away the meal cart, the food barely picked at and long since gone cold. The action buys her some time to think of how to approach this.

“Is he the one who did it?” she asks gently, the voice of a confidante not a lawyer. Annalise doesn’t respond. “Pretty risky, wasn’t it? He couldn’t aim for the shoulder? Your leg?”

At this Annalise pins her with steely eyes. “It had to be convincing. A deranged girl who’s already helped murder three people wouldn’t stop at my leg.”

++

Sleep is impossible that night. She paces, and when that doesn’t help, Eve turns to casework for the firm. She spreads the papers and folders across the coffee table but just can’t distract her mind with an appeals case. Eventually she stands at her window, looking out at a view of nothing as her thoughts travel a one-way track full speed ahead.

Catherine Hapstall is a scapegoat. Eve accepts Annalise’s word that this girl and her brother-cousin murdered her parents, but she’s definitely being framed for murdering Emily Sinclair. And Eve is wholly participating even though it contradicts every principle she practices in her work. Hell, wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that she’d so forcefully rejected the idea of framing a man? Add fifteen years on death row and a desperate, prematurely-aged former heiress would call Eve to be her advocate and miracle worker. She should feel more guilt, but it’s not high on her list of concerns.

Maybe she’s callous for caring more about the woman who was shot than the dead one or the one about to hand her life over to the State but…there’s only one woman she loves.

To hatch this plot, Annalise has to be protecting someone – Nate, yes, but also the person who _actually did it_. Nothing about this is right or fair, but Eve will be damned if she lets Annalise go down for once again making herself the protector. Annalise is shielding her students…or one in particular.

For all their anger and fear and distrust, they don’t deviate from the story: Catherine went on a rampage. When they don’t accuse her outright, however, the story is more passive and less believable. _When Sinclair was killed_ and _Professor Keating was shot_ and _She was shot when I got there_. Like some random bullet just happened to appear.

Eve can’t let it go.

She listens to the recording of Annalise’s interview again, focusing on one little clip.

_“So walk us through it again. Catherine came after ADA Sinclair first?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And how did they get upstairs?”_

_“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”_

_“Did you hear any voices or signs of struggle?”_

_“I heard loud voices.”_

_“Two? You heard both of them?”_

_“I think so. I’m not sure.”_

_“Alright, so you’re downstairs. You heard at least one loud voice. You knew your client was angry. Why didn’t you leave?”_

_“I didn’t know where she was. I couldn’t be sure.”_

_“Of course. How long before she came downstairs?”_

_“Not very long. Seconds.”_

_“And when you saw she had the gun?”_

_“She was close then. I begged, but it was too late.”_

++

There are two things that Eve will remember about Jill Hartford.

One: she’s tall. It sounds silly, but there really is a silent acknowledgement that passes between women of a certain height.

Jill brings flowers from some of the Middleton faculty, and before Annalise can gripe about it, Jill promises not to leave them. She just places the cards on the bedside table. They talk – well, Jill talks most and Annalise lets her – about classes and upcoming exams and Jill offers to help any way she can.

Two: Annalise has a friend.

++

“Hi. I need to talk to Annalise. Are you with her?”

“Yeah,” Eve answers, making the woman in question look up. “It’s Bonnie.”

“I wouldn’t have called you, but I still have Annalise’s phone,” she explains even though it’s unnecessary.

“It’s fine. Here she is.”

Eve passes over her phone. It’s not surprising that Annalise doesn’t put it on speaker, so Eve is forced to make sense of the conversation from only Annalise’s point of view. Bonnie is concerned, and Annalise is a steady hand talking her through this.

When they hang up, Annalise is pensive. She stares at the ceiling, and Eve waits, allowing her time to process this new development and how she wants to handle it.

“They questioned Asher again. Sinclair almost convinced him to testify against me before. They’re pressuring him to do it again.” The words are dull, but when Annalise turns her head Eve can see the worry.

“So the District Attorney is already involved.”

“Exactly.” Her frown deepens. “I need to talk to Asher…and the others. They’re going to panic.”

“I can do it.”

Annalise shakes her head. “No, I’m not asking you to do that.”

“I know. I’m offering,” Eve says. It takes some convincing, but Annalise soon relents. Eve will meet with Bonnie and the interns and make sure everyone is calm and on the same page.

Before she goes, Eve has another thought about the District Attorney. She can use the vendetta angle and argue that Sinclair wasn’t the only one in the office with an axe to grind. But she’d like to have some insurance.

“Do you have any dirt on the DA? Those detectives? The police chief’s mother, even.”

This time Annalise doesn’t hesitate. She has plenty of interesting information to share.

++

Games and puzzles always intrigued Eve. Her father had her setting up the chess board as soon as she could form sentences. To this day, she plays Scrabble or a game of cards with her mother at least once a month. Newspaper crosswords and Sudoku are just as common to her daily life as legal briefs. A part of that is the simple fun of it all, keeping your mind active with new challenges. And yes, she’s very competitive, has been ever since she was a child. Her brother and sister would attest to that. Eve was nurturing – protective – but she never let them win just because they were younger.

Perhaps the biggest reason is that she just likes figuring out how things work. Why do people do what they do? How did this happen to make that occur? Eve is often left without answers, but she never stops asking.

This, she thinks with little humor, is a real life game of Clue.

“Oh, this is priceless.” Connor is the first to speak. “Asher’s the snitch,” he says, jabbing a finger in the boy’s direction, “except he’s also the reason we’re in this mess.”

Well, that answers one question. She has the _who_ , but for now Eve’s not preoccupied with the _why_ and the _how_.

Bonnie fixes him with a cold glare. “Asher isn’t going to tell. Now calm down.”

“I won’t tell, guys,” Asher chimes in. “I’m sticking to the plan.”

Connor scoffs, and Eve can’t really blame him for the lack of confidence. Asher’s voice and whole demeanor are so stiff like he’s reading from cue cards. The police and DA are going to eat that up. These five – and Wes – really need to be on the same page, so she’s got to tell them everything.

“But there is a small wrinkle.” They all focus on her at once. “A witness says they saw you running from the mansion. Based on what Asher told us, they didn’t get a good look. For all we know, the police are bluffing,” Eve says, but three guilty reactions convince her otherwise. “We have to assume it’s credible. Do you remember seeing anyone else that night? A housekeeper or a neighbor?”

“No, we were the-” Michaela catches herself and tries again. “There wasn’t anyone else.”

“Just Nate.”

Eve doesn’t have to address that. She’s put that fear to rest. “Okay. Think back-”

“It was Phillip,” Wes supplies. He appears in the hallway like some specter, standing tall in the face of everyone’s curiosity and judgment. “I think I saw his car when we were leaving.”

“And you’re just now telling us this?” Unsurprisingly, Connor’s outburst comes first.

“Wait a minute. If it is Phillip,” Laurel jumps in, focusing on the case, “he’s putting himself at the scene, too. That works in our favor.”

“Idiot.”

Eve drags her eyes away from Wes. “Yes, it does,” she agrees, grinning at Laurel. “A decent attorney will eventually get it tossed, but for now we can use it. You just need to be aware that the police will probably question you again soon, maybe offer you the same deal as Asher.”

Like clockwork Connor speaks. “Well, at this point I’m considering it.”

“Don’t say that,” Michaela admonishes. “Don’t say it because if you say it then I’ll start thinking it.” She hugs herself, looking defeated. Her voice trembles when she says, “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

Connor wraps an arm around her shoulders, his mouth set in a thin line even as he tries to comfort his friend. Laurel, as level-headed and cool as ever, gives them some encouragement. Eve can’t tell if it has much effect. She leans forward trying to make eye contact and express some confidence here.

“Annalise wanted me to make sure you’re all okay. We’ll get you through this.” It’s not exactly true, but she’ll use whatever works. “Summer is almost here. Think about that. I’m sure you all have a lot to look forward to… but if you don’t, we can arrange something.”

++

Visiting hours are over by the time they’re done, so she just stops to get a salad and heads back to her hotel. Annalise is still awake, Eve knows, and it’s confirmed when her phone rings flashing the hospital’s number. Eve gives her an update, including the incentives she threw in.

Figuring out Michaela was fairly easy. She showed interest in The Exoneration Group the first time Eve came to town, so Eve focused on that. Eve offered the young woman a paid internship with the firm, fishing for any hint that her school work and job preparation had suffered. If not that, Eve has many other contacts in New York City and all it would take is a few calls and a recommendation. Michaela didn’t accept, but Eve could tell she was intrigued.

Connor was harder to read. He wanted a ticket out of crazy-town, as he put it. Eve’s not even sure what he’ll ask for, but so long as he’s not trying to flee the country Eve can make it work.

“Staying out of jail should be all the incentive they need,” Annalise declares.

It was enough for Asher, but that still leaves two people. “Laurel and Wes didn’t say much. Any ideas about them?”

Annalise sighs. “Laurel doesn’t need anything. She’s been through worse than this, and she comes from money.”

That’s a scary thought, but Eve doesn’t push the issue. She also doesn’t mention the conspicuous way Annalise leaves out Wes when she goes quiet. It’s late, and they’re both too tired for a fight. Annalise coughs, harsh and wheezing. She groans lowly, probably trying to get comfortable, and Eve bites her lip as she waits.

“How are you? How do you feel?”

It takes a while for Annalise to answer, and then she only says, “Like I’ve been shot.”

Emotion clogs her throat. She wants so desperately to take away Annalise’s pain, but all she can do is ensure that Annalise knows she’ll be there for her. Eve has to remind herself to be patient, tell herself that Annalise doesn’t like to give herself away.

“Looks like we’re playing good cop, bad cop now,” Eve tries, hoping to lighten the mood. “It’s nice to be the good cop.”

There’s a disagreeable huff from Annalise who says, “You’re always good.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Eve rolls to her left picturing Annalise on the pillow beside her. “I can think of several times that I was very bad. Should I refresh your memory?”

It has the intended effect. “Don’t do that. It hurts to laugh.”

“Well, laughing isn’t the reaction I had in mind,” she purrs even though it totally is. The only thing she’d like more is to be able to hold Annalise as she falls asleep tonight.

“Good _night_ , Eve.”

“Goodnight, Annalise.”

++

If Wes was an enigma before – composed persona harboring unclear intentions – then he’s just become an outright menace. He stands at the foot of Annalise’s bed, hands buried in his jacket pockets, just glaring. Annalise is none the wiser, eyes closed and chest rising and falling steadily in sleep.

Jaw clenched, Wes turns and the intensity in his usually docile eyes sends a shiver down Eve’s spine. He spares a final glance at his teacher before making a hasty retreat past Eve with a curt excuse.

She’s half in the doorway, mind shooting off warning bells and question marks when she sees it. Just a quick, nearly imperceptible movement: Annalise’s fingers clutching at her blanket.

Eve’s legs start moving.

++

“Wes. Wes,” she calls out just short of a yell. Eve knows he can hear her, but Wes keeps walking. Her pace picks up, and she catches him once they’re outside. “Hey! Wes, what’s going on?”

“Leave me alone.”

“No. I can’t do that.” He plants his feet without warning, turning to face her. Eve stares at him, her pulse racing and nerves bouncing around her chest. His face is shadowed, stubbled cheeks and hooded eyes. “I can’t imagine what went on that night, but something is clearly bothering you.”

Wes shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eve steps closer, hardening her voice. “I know she’s keeping a huge secret for you, yet you shot her in the stomach.”

That makes his head jerk up. “She told you about that?”

“Of course not. I figured it out after the hearing. Just like I’m trying to figure this out.” He shuffles his feet and avoids eye contact. She watches him closely, eyes narrowed. “Is that why you did it? You argued about him?”

“This doesn’t have to do with Sam,” he murmurs, but then his head tilts like he’s rethinking it mid-sentence. “No, actually it does. It’s about Sam and Rebecca and my mother… these horrible cases…just everything.” His voice rises, going from bewilderment to anger and cutting Eve off. “You want to help? Get her to talk to me. Get her to tell me the truth.”

And he leaves her standing in shock.

Shit.

++

“Annalise, we need to talk about Wes,” she says as calmly as possible. Eve doesn’t want to be confrontational, but there’s an urgency that she’s trying to make Annalise address.

“No. I told you to leave it alone.”

Eve bites her lip, watching Annalise and the way she goes still. It’s hard to gauge her reaction when she won’t even look at Eve. “I think he knows something, Annalise…about his mother.”

“No, he doesn’t,” she denies, shaking her head. “Why would you think that?”

“It was just the way…it was the way he mentioned her. I have a feeling.” An uneasy silence blankets the room. Eve slides her chair closer, still waiting for Annalise to meet her eyes. She needs Annalise to see that she’s not just digging for the sake of being nosy. “What did you say to him that night? Maybe he overheard-”

“It wasn’t about her.”

“Are you sure? He’s upset about-”

“I don’t care!” Annalise cuts in, voice cracking. “So am I!” She clamps down on her tongue, face creasing as she tries to hold back tears and… _everything_.

Eve gets up quickly, taking Annalise’s hand and sitting next to her. She shushes her, whispering nonsense like _It’s okay_ , but Annalise doesn’t stop.

“I had to do something. I said things- and then it- it happened,” she forces out, shaky and nearly breathless. A hand gestures to her side. “I can’t remember much. I went down and I saw- I saw them over me- I was in shock- and the blood- I couldn’t- my phone was ringing, but I couldn’t--”

Annalise clings to Eve’s hand, and she holds tight. Tears flood Eve’s eyes, but she ignores them. She cradles a wet cheek with one hand, gentle, letting Annalise lean into her seeking comfort. They’re both shaken – Annalise reliving that night and Eve seeing a tiny glimpse of the storm. Dark eyes look away then close, Annalise taking time to steady ragged breathing.

Swallowing thickly, Annalise murmurs, “It’s my fault. I did this.”

Eve whispers her name, suddenly intent on soothing her hurt and guilt more than anything else, but Annalise misinterprets her concern.

“Just let it go. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m serious, Eve,” she commands, leaving no room for argument. “Do not get involved in this, and do not tell him anything.”

After everything, Eve doesn’t understand how Annalise could demand that of her. She helped set this whole chain in motion. But Eve nods her head and simply says, “Okay.”

++

Before Annalise is discharged, most of her team visits. Bonnie grows warmer. Frank is brief and ready to do whatever needs to be done. Asher, Laurel, and Michaela visit, awkward though it is. Even Connor shows up. He looks like he’s got a mouth full of nails but he’s there.

Eve sees everyone except Wes.

Under normal circumstances it would be easy to forget amid the checkups and well-wishes, the work and restless nights. But this is far from normal. The tension coils more tightly, and something has to give.


	2. Chapter 2

But no matter how hard I try  
I can’t seem to win this fight.  
I seem to be further behind  
Than I was when I met you.

 _Bleeding Rivers_ , Copper Wimmin

 

++

  
Two weeks pass in the blink of an eye, but that’s all the time it takes for the doctors to declare Annalise fit to go home. She’s not fully recovered. It’s a continuous process, the healing, both physically and mentally. Nevertheless, Annalise is more than ready to go home. She’s been, at turns, despondent and agitated, confined to an impersonal room and feeling cut off from everything. Eve hopes the return to familiarity and home comforts can lift her spirits.

She ushers Annalise up the porch steps and through the door, watching her closely to make sure she doesn’t overdo it. Annalise looks around as she walks gingerly through the foyer and hall.

“Home sweet home. Just like you left it. Bonnie gave me her key, so I’ve been stopping by. Your fridge is full, and we’ve cleaned everything. Bonnie’s been taking care of mail and work, but I guess you know that,” Eve finishes lamely, chatting away just to fill the quiet.

“That’s Bonnie’s?” She glances at the item in question held by Eve’s fingers.

“Yeah.” Eve is reminded of the apparent distance between them those first couple days, but she has no clue about what’s happened. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it back. I’m not inviting myself to move in.”

Annalise doesn’t respond. Instead she moves toward the stairs.

“You’re not supposed to go up stairs,” Eve says, moving to Annalise’s side protectively. “I fixed the couch.”

She clutches the banister, dismissing Eve’s suggestion as she slowly maneuvers up the staircase. “I want to be in my own bed.” Her jaw is tight, breath choppy with each push off of her feet. Annalise takes hold of Eve’s arm, and it’s slow going but they make it together.

In the bedroom, Annalise sits, arms braced at her sides as she clumsily toes off her shoes. She reclines against the headboard, pillows stacked behind her, and Eve helps tuck her under the covers.

“I’m going to get you some water and your pain medicine, okay?” Eve caresses her face, noticing the light sheen of sweat, and Annalise sighs at the cool contact. “Do you need anything else?”

Annalise’s answer is a tired shake of her head. Eve expels a shaky breath as she goes to retrieve the items. It’s so hard to watch Annalise – normally so independent and strong-willed – in such distress, relying on Eve’s help with little to no protest. Eve’s grateful for Annalise’s trust, but she’s conscious of the fine line between caregiver and nuisance. The last thing Eve wants is for Annalise to push her away, or god forbid, ignore her doctors out of frustration. Or worse. She’s seen the depressed spells Annalise can go through, and if just watching can leave her feeling so ineffectual and tied in knots, Eve can’t begin to imagine what it feels like for Annalise.

When she returns, the first thing Eve notices is the way Annalise’s hand rests lightly over her wound. She puts the cup and plastic bottles on the nightstand, already kneeling as she asks, “Did you pull a stitch?”

Annalise hums lowly to answer no then moves her arm as a see-for-yourself gesture. Carefully, Eve pushes up her shirt and peels away the bandage to see once again the damage of a hot piece of lead. Indeed the neat strands are still intact, still holding together onyx skin that was ripped apart so violently. The sight – the mere thought, really – makes her queasy, so once Eve is satisfied that there isn’t any bleeding or swelling she ends her exam and covers the spot.

Wordlessly, Annalise takes her pills and shifts some more to get as comfortable as she can. Eve’s hand finds its way to Annalise’s forehead again. This time Annalise tugs it away, but she doesn’t let go.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Annalise says quietly, lips turning up ever so slightly. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She studies their clasped hands, skin warm and soft. Eve needs this moment of connection to last longer, and reading the vulnerability in Annalise’s eyes, Eve senses the feeling is mutual. “Would you mind if I stayed?”

“No, I’d like that.”

So she settles on top of the sheets beside Annalise, an arm around her shoulder as Annalise burrows against her. Deep, even breaths flow across the hollow of her throat where Annalise’s head rests. Their hands join again.

The silence lasts for an extended time, peaceful at first but long enough for troubled thoughts to creep in. Even breaths become sporadic – inhale, stop, wait, exhale – and Eve guesses the other woman is trying to stem the tide of tears. She holds a little tighter, worries confirmed when several drops fall against her chest. She doesn’t know if the pain is inside or out.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Annalise sniffs loudly, and she’s quiet for so long that the answer becomes a clear no.

Lip caught between her teeth, Eve holds her composure, trying to be strong for Annalise. “You can talk to me any time, Annalise. I’m here,” she vows quietly. “If you want to talk or cry…a hug, I’m here. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

Again with that inadequate word. _Okay_. Nothing about this situation is _okay_. But if that insignificant word is a substitute for alive and healing…well, it’ll have to do.

++

Sleep eventually claimed them both, and apparently Eve needed it as much as Annalise. She’s been burning the candle at both ends, juggling work in New York and spending time with Annalise. Oh yeah, and helping to orchestrate an epic conspiracy; can’t forget that. It’s no wonder her body and mind are demanding some rest.

She wakes to the sensation of Annalise’s thumb making lazy patterns on the back of her hand.

“You’re not taking care of yourself.

Eve starts to deny it, but a lengthy yawn interrupts. “I’m fine,” she says anyway. “Just needed a little extra sleep.”

“Mmhm.” Annalise leans back, and Eve kisses her temple for being concerned. “You can’t fuss over me all day every day. Don’t you have a practice to run?” she asks not unkindly. “Or someone to miss you?”

The second question comes out a little softer than the first, and like the other times Annalise has brought up other women, Eve redirects.

“I’m very good at multitasking and delegating. And I just went back last weekend, remember? I’ve got it under control.”

“And?”

Eve glances down at Annalise even though she can’t see her eyes. She sighs inaudibly. It’s not that she’s trying to be coy or make Annalise jealous – alright, maybe a tiny part of her wouldn’t mind Annalise getting possessive – but there really isn’t much to tell. Eve’s never lacked companionship when she wanted it, to be sure, but the thing she has right now in New York is…open. Casual. So casual, in fact, that she and Karen have only exchanged some short texts in the last few weeks but nothing of substance.

With Annalise at times it seems like she’s trying to marry Eve off to the next hot thing. Eve doesn’t want to dive in too quickly – ask for something Annalise isn’t ready to give – but she also doesn’t want to hand her an excuse to pull away.

“And my personal life is fine,” Eve answers. “I’m where I want to be.”

Annalise snuggles closer. “That’s nice but I want you to take care of yourself, too.”

Eve can only smile and promise to do better.

Their silence is eventually interrupted by a growling stomach.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Eve says, laughing. “Are you hungry? I can cook something.”

It’s still early for dinner, but neither of them ate much of a breakfast then slept through lunch.

“Not really…but I know I should eat.” She leans back until she can meet Eve’s eyes. “I’d rather have something sweet…and cold.”

“Ice cream isn’t very nutritious. How about one of those protein shakes?” Her eyes light up. “Oh! What about a-”

“Smoothie,” Annalise finishes with a small grin.

“-smoothie. Alright, smoothie it is.” They disentangle and Eve stands, working out the kinks in her shoulders and back. “You aren’t just trying to get rid of me, are you?” she asks playfully, slipping on her shoes.

“No, I’d just say you gotta go.”

Eve smiles despite the harshness of the prospect. “Never afraid to be blunt. One of the many things I like about you.” She pecks the other woman on her cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

++

“I hope Bonnie isn’t staying away because of me. I don’t think she was happy about me being here.”

“Probably just surprised. I certainly was.” Annalise takes a healthy sip of her drink. “She just needs the chance to get to know you.”

For that to happen, Eve needs to come around more, to be invited into Annalise’s regular life. She smiles at the thought.

“What about you?” Eve nudges her leg. “Are you happy I’m here?”

Annalise takes another drink, sighing as her head drops back. “I’m still thinking about it.” A slow smile creeps across her face. “It is kind of like old times.”

Eve laughs gently. In school the only thing scarier than the two of them facing off was Annalise and Eve working together.

“We make an excellent team.”

++

“These sheets really are amazing,” she whispers in the dark.

“I’ll buy you a set,” Annalise responds, lazy words muffled by her pillow.

Eve giggles to herself at the unspoken ending: _now shut up_. Her lips linger against the curve of Annalise’s neck.

“Goodnight.”

++

Bonnie comes to the house the next day – still meek, Eve notices, but clearly concerned. When she sets eyes on Annalise, her hand tightens around the strap of her bag but she gives a warm smile.

“Hi. Welcome home.”

Annalise is surprised to see her given the way her lips turn up and her eyes soften. “Thank you, Bonnie.”

The young woman sits, legs together and hands in her lap, not taking up too much space.

“You didn’t have to come,” Annalise says, saving Eve from trying to make clumsy small talk. “I’m not quite ready to start working.”

“No, I know,” Bonnie assures quickly, “I just…I came to see you.” She studies the line of medicine bottles on the coffee table and the information pamphlets. Her eyes flit to Eve then to her own nervous fingers before landing back on Annalise. “To see if I could do anything for you.”

Eve hangs out for a little longer, but there are obviously so many unspoken things floating above her head. She wants to give Annalise and Bonnie their space to work out whatever it is.

“I think I’m going to leave for a bit,” Eve declares.

“You don’t have to,” Annalise protests. Probably part of that is to be polite, but the look in her eyes tells Eve that it’s also a genuine invitation.

She smiles at Annalise even as she says, “It’s okay. I do need to get some work done actually.” She pats Annalise’s arm, hand warming as Annalise covers it for a few seconds before letting go. “I’ll see you later,” Eve half-says, half-asks, and Annalise agrees.

Eve reaches into her purse and pulls out the house key, extending it toward Bonnie. She leaves them both with friendly parting words. Bonnie responds in kind.

Knowing how to read people and trusting her instincts serves Eve well in business and everyday life. That first night here – that dark, terrifying night when she got the call – her gut was screaming that things weren’t right. About Bonnie and Nate and everything. It just seemed like no one cared enough. Eve has no doubt that many things are at play here, but in this case, she’s happy to be proven wrong.

++

Annalise doesn’t go back to work that day, but soon – sooner than Eve is comfortable with – she does. Being an invalid – Annalise’s word – clearly doesn’t suit such a bold, take-charge woman. The wig returns, the impeccable clothing and makeup also a part of the persona. Bonnie is at her side; Frank as well.

And just as the investigation rolls on, so does the school semester. Laurel is the first to get back into the routine, and the others follow. There’s an odd mix of study breaks and case work, guilt-ridden worrying, camaraderie and shady looks behind someone’s back.

Eve only briefly glimpses the team in action, but for all its flaws, The Law Office of Annalise Keating goes on.

++

She keeps seeing Wes at the wrong times. Or the right ones, depending on how she looks at it.

It’s evident that he has a lot festering under the surface of his usually serene demeanor. Tonight she meets him walking down the front porch steps with hunched shoulders. The stubble on his cheeks has grown into a thin beard, and it certainly fits with his edgy mood.

“She wouldn’t let you in?”

Wes shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes, she did. I was just leaving. We talked. Well, I did most of that. She still won’t-” He exhales an explosive breath. His fists go into his pockets as he looks down at the sidewalk. “I’ve apologized for…what happened.”

Her jaw aches from the force of biting back a hostile response. How does one apologize for attempted murder?

“Has she told you anything?” he asks, eyes wide and pleading. “I don’t expect you to fix this, but maybe she’ll open up to you.”

She’s well aware that he’s trying to play her with this wounded expression and all the sincerity in the world. She understands why his classmates sometimes call him a puppy. But being conscious of the game doesn’t necessarily make her immune to it. Regardless of how badly Wes has handled things, she does have empathy for him and regrets the turmoil that his mother’s death has caused.

“I can’t just let this go,” he says. “It’s all I think about.”

“I’m sorry about all this, Wes. I really am.” She sighs. “I’ll talk to her,” Eve says, cutting him off with a raised hand. “I’m not promising you anything, but I’ll talk to her again.”

He narrows his eyes at her, deciding if he can trust her word. Eventually he nods in acceptance, and Eve watches as he hops on his bike and rides away.

++

Eve notices the empty tumbler as soon as she gets in the living room. Technically, it could have been filled with anything – water, juice, crushed ice just to chew on – but Eve doubts it. Whatever happened between Annalise and Wes, it’s clearly taking a toll on her.

So she sits and lets Annalise recline against her. Eve doesn’t mention the drinking or Wes, letting the other woman have her thoughts without interruption for now.

“I keep thinking about her” is how Annalise starts the conversation, and Eve knows she means Wes’s mother. “I couldn’t sleep last night, and all I kept thinking about was her…about that case.”

Eve squeezes Annalise’s shoulder, rests a cheek against the top of her head.

“And I keep reliving that night…at the mansion.” She pauses, body tensing. “I think I remember- I said his name. His real name.”

It takes her a minute, but Eve does recall the boy’s name then: Christophe. All it took was for Annalise to say _It’s him_ , and Eve knew immediately what that meant. She understood with sudden clarity why Annalise was so protective of a not-so-random law student. Even so, it’s clear that the connection to him runs much deeper for Annalise. Eve hadn’t thought about that case in ages, but now that she has it brings up an array of feelings.

Things were less complicated when Eve just thought the two of them might be having sex.

“I thought about that case for a long time,” Eve says quietly. She thought about her missteps and things she would change if she could do it over. She wondered what happened to the boy who saw too much. Lastly but definitely not least, she mourned the experience of losing Annalise for the second time. Coming back to the present, she says, “I think he deserves to know what happened, Annalise.”

The woman shakes her head, answering, “I can’t do that. He won’t- It won’t be the same.”

Eve frowns. “I think we’re long past that point.” She says it as gently as possible, but Annalise still pulls away. “Hey,” she coaxes, taking Annalise’s hand in her own, “if you’re worried how he’ll react or if you just want emotional support, I’ll be with you. We can tell him together.”

“You just said you never think about it anymore. This isn’t your problem.”

It shouldn’t be yours either, Eve thinks, but of course Annalise is determined to bear the burden alone. “You know I’m not choosing his side over yours, right?” She squeezes her hand, waiting for Annalise to meet her eyes. “I’m not. I just…don’t understand,” Eve finishes weakly.

She knows Annalise isn’t deliberately trying to hurt the boy – the exact opposite, in fact – but Eve doesn’t get the need for secrecy.

“You don’t have to understand,” Annalise says, ending the discussion. “I don’t owe him anything.”

++

Eve can’t remember the last time she had to sit through an interrogation, but she’s not anxious to do it again any time soon.

“Ms. Rothlo,” the DA calls out, surely delaying their exit by another five minutes at least. Eve feels a headache coming on. “If you had Mr. Lahey’s best interests at heart, you’d tell him to stop protecting Annalise Keating.” He looks over her shoulder at Nate before bringing his attention back to her. “That goes for you, too.”

“What my client needs is for you to stop this ridiculous vendetta.”

“And which client is that? Annalise or him?” He’s entirely too smug, and Eve wonders just how much he was looking forward to confronting her. “You know, I read through the transcripts of the hearing after Sam Keating’s murder. You told the judge you and Annalise weren’t close at all – hadn’t seen each other in a decade – and yet here you are, knee-deep in not one, not two, but _three_ murder cases tied to her. Why is that?” He folds his arms and looks toward Nate again. “Did she tell you how close they are?”

Nate doesn’t say anything, but Eve has to bite the inside of her cheek because she’s positive she hears him snort.

“I suppose we can thank Emily Sinclair for bringing us back together.” She resists adding a sarcastic _may she rest in peace_. That would be too petty, and she’s not actually happy the woman is dead.

“Right.” He takes a deep breath then blows it out. “Here’s the thing, Ms. Rothlo: I can’t sit by and watch murderers walk free. I can’t and I won’t.”

“It seems like you have your murderer – or two of them.”

“Some evidence suggests otherwise.”

“Really?” Now it’s Eve’s turn to feel a little smug although she doesn’t show it. She’s really getting tired of this little standoff. Unless the DA is actually filing charges against Nate or Annalise, there’s no point to all this posturing. “According to who? Detective Smith? Tell me,” she starts, and yeah, maybe there’s some attitude, “is it your standard procedure to assign bigoted detectives to these cases? Or is that just for high-profile ones? Detective Smith has a very troubling reputation.”

Annalise hadn’t given her any details, only saying that the guy was a transphobic asshole and kind of a jerk in general. Judging by the way the DA’s eyes widen a fraction before he hides it, that assessment isn’t a secret.

He shifts uncomfortably. “You know very well that the police department handles case assignments not the DA. And Detective Smith’s personal feelings were directed toward Annalise’s former client not her. Regardless, he’s been taken off this case.”

“Was that before or after Annalise became your big target?” He doesn’t respond, of course. “I won’t even mention his contentious history with Mr. Lahey.”

The DA barely lets her finish before saying, “I researched you, Ms. Rothlo. I’ll give you credit. You do and say all the right things – championing justice left and right – but you’re really just a big hypocrite. What, do you need to save people to make up for all the other ones you’ve screwed?”

The barb stings, for sure, but she holds her composure. He wouldn’t be getting personal unless he knew he was losing.

“This isn’t over,” he declares finally.

“Yes, it is.” Eve stands taller, silently holding his attention a little longer. “Have a good day, counselor,” she says with fake kindness, and then because she can’t resist, she adds, “Oh, and I hear congratulations are in order.” He frowns in confusion, and Eve’s satisfaction grows. She’ll have the last word. _We’ll see who’s a hypocrite_. “Good luck on your campaign.”

++

“They questioned Nate again,” Annalise informs her as soon as Eve answers her phone.

Despite the situation, Eve smirks looking at the man in question over the hood of her rental car. “I know. I was there.” She has to respect the attorney’s sources for promptness. She and Nate haven’t even left the parking lot yet. The cheery sunlight is a nice change from the sixty minutes they just spent in a cramped room. “Don’t worry. It was just grasping at straws,” she says as soon as they’re within the privacy of the car.

Eve puts the phone on speaker. Nate assures, “Everything’s fine, Annalise.”

Honestly, they seemed more interested in Nate’s time as a detective and police officer than about charging him with the murder of Emily Sinclair. That’s likely the result of him threatening to sue half the city government. It was a risky move, and Eve rolls her eyes. What a mess.

“I may have had a little run-in with the DA,” Eve hedges instead of giving the recap she knows Annalise wants.

“You didn’t.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault.”

“It’s true,” Nate agrees. “He started it.”

Eve toys with her hair, considering what to say about their next move. “I think he knows the stakes, but if not…I set him up, so you can do your thing.”

It takes several moments until Annalise approves with a simple “Alright.”

Grin spreading, Eve says, “You know, this is just like that time we tried Queen Elizabeth. All we need is the kangaroos and a piano.”

Annalise chuckles at the ridiculous memory. She’s in the middle of work, so it’s not long before they disconnect the call.

“I guess you had to be there,” Nate says, face scrunching comically.

“Yeah, it was a law school thing.” She smiles a little longer then shakes herself out of it. “Well, this was fun,” she jokes, and Nate’s bark of laughter is equally sarcastic.

He waits, analyzing her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eve says even though she’s not quite sure. There are so many lines blurring here, personally and professionally. “Just need to get back to my room and do some work…take my mind off it. You?”

He rubs his head thinking about it. “They’re probably going to fire me once this blows over, right? Once the lawyers get together and decide I’m not enough of a threat?” He sees the affirmation in her eyes and goes silent, looking out the window. “Yeah, I need to cool off, too, but I’m good. I think I’ll head home.” Nate wraps his fingers around the door handle then stops. “I guess I’ll see you later at Annalise’s?”

She nods, watching as he gets out and reaches his own vehicle – a regular civilian one instead of his police cruiser.

It’s unexpected how they’re navigating this threesome, with more respect than ego and drama. Given everything else going on, Eve’s not complaining. It’s one less headache for her.

Eve starts toward her hotel. This amateur interrogation interrupted her case work, and she’s got to switch her mind back to it. Eve told Annalise that she’s got the multi-tasking down pat, and she does mostly, but – well, she really should go back to New York this weekend. It is the responsible thing to do.

++

“Why’d we buy so much food?”

“Nate’s coming over,” Eve answers casually, focused on getting the take-out and plates and cups to the table. “He didn’t tell you?”

Annalise crosses her arms. “He called. I didn’t know you were coming together.”

Eve can tell Annalise is uncomfortable with the idea, so she stops her task. She smiles, rubs her hand across a tense shoulder, trying to convey that she’s not upset and Annalise doesn’t have to be either. Maybe under different circumstances Eve would be, but this is where they are now.

“This way it’ll save you time on questioning us,” she jokes. Annalise kind of rolls her eyes.

When Nate arrives, it seems like the best idea is to get right to eating. Stuffing your mouth is an acceptable excuse for not talking. Annalise takes the lead somewhat reluctantly by asking about the scene with the police and District Attorney earlier. Nate opens up more personal conversation by talking about the time he was shot in the leg, which…Eve can’t exactly say that’s _helping_ , but it’s a start. He’s also curious about them together at Harvard, and that’s something she doesn’t mind talking about.

Throughout the night she finds herself studying them, observing the way Annalise looks at Nate. It gives her the same skin-tingly, mixed feelings as before. But she also senses that Nate is watching her, seeing the way she hangs on Annalise’s words, the way she touches her without thought. Eve can’t help blushing a little under his gaze.

Mercifully, Annalise tells them both they can leave when the evening is over.

“Could’ve been worse,” Nate decides when they're walking away.

She chuckles in agreement. It was actually a good night.

++

The day that Phillip Jessup and Catherine Hapstall are formally charged with murder, Caleb Hapstall gives an impassioned press conference proclaiming his sister’s innocence and vowing to use his family’s resources to prove it.

++

“Is the job offer still available?” Michaela asks in a rush the next day.

“Of course.”

The girl’s shoulders drop in relief, and she flashes a wobbly smile. “Good. I just- things are moving so fast, and I didn’t want to wait too long to accept. But I don’t- I don’t want you to think I’m asking for a free ride,” she rambles on, “because I’m not. My grades and work experience are _outstanding_ , and- and I can give you my transcripts and resumes and recommendations...”

Eve smiles, having no doubt that she’s probably got all of that in her designer bag right now. “You don’t have to convince me. If you work for Annalise, I know you’re brilliant.”

Michaela seems surprised, but she accepts the compliment. She smiles again, this time brighter, more confident. “I do have other job opportunities, but none as great as this. I’m learning that it’s not just about what you know...but _who_ you know.”

++

The house is so quiet. The door was already unlocked – Annalise should probably reconsider that practice – but as she steps further inside, it’s obvious no one is around. The kids are probably in class, and Bonnie and Frank are also gone.

“Annalise, it’s me,” she calls out, walking through the rooms searching for the other woman. Eve returns to foyer, standing at the bottom of the stairs and saying, “Annalise.”

Still no answer.

She can’t help the way her heart begins to pound. Annalise is probably asleep or out on an errand with Bonnie…not passed out or lying on the floor bleeding, in pain, or…

“Annalise.”

Her feet move.

 _Thumpa_ , _thumpa_ …

“Annalise…”

 _Thumpa_ …

“In here,” Annalise finally answers, voice faint through her bedroom door.

Eve walks right up to it, hands braced against the wood trim. She has to hold herself up, willing her heart to calm.

“Are you okay?” She’s only barely resisting the impulse to barge in.

It takes several moments – long enough for Eve to rethink her control – but Annalise says, “I’m fine.”

Eve breathes a little easier. “Are you sure? Can I-”

“I’m fine,” Annalise answers again, throwing Eve off balance as she opens the door. Her face is scrubbed free of makeup, tear tracks evident on her cheeks, eyes red and puffy.

“What’s wrong?” Gently, she places her hands on Annalise’s biceps. Her eyes don’t stop searching, trying to determine if Annalise is truly alright.

“Nothing,” she says. Annalise sniffs, wiping her face. Eyes downcast, she holds her mouth tightly, and Eve waits. When Annalise does look up again, her voice is low, quivering as she says, “I was- I was talking to my mother.”

Eve’s mouth forms a little _oh_. She understands better now.

“That’s good,” she declares although there’s a tiny hint of a question mark at the end. “Is she coming here?”

The answer is a firm head shake. “No…as long as she stays off the internet.” Annalise smiles, but there’s no heart in it.

Hands sliding down the woman’s arms until she’s holding Annalise’s in her own, Eve takes steady breaths, letting her nerves relax.

“No one answered, and I got worried because it’s the middle of a work day and I just…”

“I gave everybody the day off. I wanted some peace and quiet.” Her face softens, lips turning down at the corners. Annalise steps closer until their bodies touch. She lets go of Eve’s hands, instead wrapping them around her waist, and Eve reciprocates, sighing at the contact. The shorter woman leans up and kisses Eve’s chin then chastely brings their lips together. “You worry too much,” she murmurs.

Eve gives a tiny shrug. “I can’t help it.”

Dark eyes close, and Annalise presses her face against Eve’s neck. They just stand together taking comfort in each other’s presence. Eve is a little afraid to hold too tight, careful not to aggravate Annalise’s injury.

“I thought you were leaving today,” Annalise eventually says.

“I am but…I wanted to see you one more time.” She can’t even say that it’s entirely due to Annalise’s health at the moment. Sometimes Eve really is just a big sap. She feels Annalise smile against her skin.

“You act like you’ll be gone for months. I’ll see you in a few days.”

They go silent again, Annalise not showing any more urgency to move than Eve. Annalise’s chest expands with a deep sigh.

“I won’t break,” she whispers.

Eve doesn’t know who the declaration is meant to benefit – both of them, surely – but she does the most natural thing. She holds Annalise closer.

++

The firm is a lot more laid-back on the weekends, so Eve works from her office for a few hours. She gets a few calls and texts – from Karen, from friends – but she’s not really interested in her personal life right now so Eve doesn’t accept any invitations. Having seen her immerse herself in work before, they don’t push.

Eve does talk to her mother about things going on in her life but not about Annalise – so nothing at all, really. She will, though, Eve decides. Soon. She’s always had a strong relationship with her mother, appreciates her advice and gentle guidance, and Eve certainly needs it now.

++

When she returns to Philadelphia, Eve is extremely run down. She books a hotel room and contemplates that she might as well just rent the suite given how much time she’s been spending here. Splayed face down on the bed, Eve shuts her eyes and mind, wanting a quiet nap before going to see Annalise.

Her head aches, and the door is pounding.

The door. _What?_

Eve gets up to answer. She looks through the peephole and sees Wes, and her brows crease wondering how in the hell the young man even knew she was here. Did he call every hotel in the city and give her name? She sighs a little angrily but finds her hand pressing down on the door handle to open it.

“Wes, now is not a good time.”

“I need to talk to you,” he says like he didn’t even hear her. He’s still unshaven, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocks from foot to foot. “This can’t wait.”

Against her better judgment, Eve opens the door a little wider for him to come in. He stands in the middle of the room, looking around, looking at her. Eve presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, waking herself up fully for wherever this conversation is going. She has a good idea.

“You know something.”

“I know a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific.”

His lip curls, irritated by the mockery. “You know something…about my mother.” He waits, head tilted, looking for some kind of reaction from her. When more time passes with no response, Wes shakes his head. “I think you know something because the other night at Professor Keating’s you apologized. You apologized, and I’ve been thinking about that. Why would you apologize for me shooting her?”

Eve can’t help it, her teeth grind hearing him say it so nonchalantly. It’s deliberate, she knows, but realizing it doesn’t stop the automatic way her heart seizes or the sudden fury tightening her jaw. She’s not a violent person – really, she’s not – but she could happily punch him in the face right now.

“You wouldn’t,” he goes on, probably cataloguing her every move, “so I thought about it, and I think you know more than you’re saying. You either know about Rebecca,” he says, purposefully testing the waters, “or my mother…and I think it’s my mother.”

She doesn’t break eye contact, holding on to her silence and poise. In her mind, however, she’s second-guessing every word she’s ever said to him, every interaction. Eve sighs. “Wes…,” she begins, except she doesn’t know what else to say.

“Please don’t lie to me,” he begs. “I don’t know if you’ve lost a parent, but I have. I know what it’s like, and there aren’t any words powerful enough to describe it. And ever since that night, it’s almost all I think about.” Wes looks away, gathering himself, and Eve doesn’t feel like she’s being played. The hurt is genuine, his wet eyes completely real and vulnerable. “I have so much respect for Professor Keating…as a teacher and even as an attorney. But I’ve seen the way she operates sometimes, and the idea that…I just need to know…”

“Sit down,” Eve utters in the silence that follows.

He listens, bringing his hands free and wiping them nervously on his pants. Eve sits across from him, chewing her lip, weighing her options. Despite her previous confidence that Wes deserves to know and that Annalise should tell him before things got more out of hand, she didn’t actually have some secret agenda to tell him. Now, in this room with Wes…seeing a glimpse of what he’s going through…. She told Annalise she wouldn’t, but…

“It’s not what you think. We didn’t-”

“So you knew her, too?”

“Yes, I met her,” Eve explains slowly. “Annalise already knew her, but I didn’t know that until they became part of a case I was working.”

He shakes his head, confused. “What kind of case?”

She sees the woman she represented – another soft-spoken Haitian woman like Wes’s mother. She sees him, not as he is now but as a young boy. She purses her lips, editing information before she speaks. Eve can recall things in detail, and he doesn’t need to know it all. “Trafficking. Drugs, guns…people.”

Wes sucks in a loud breath, and Eve can see the tears collect on his lashes. “My mother didn’t commit suicide, did she?”

“No.”

++

She makes him promise not to talk to Annalise before her. Eve needs time to prepare her, a chance to convince her that this is for the best.

After he’s left, she sits with her head in her hands, trying to convince herself first.

Eve calls Annalise, waits with shaking hands. She doesn’t answer the first few rings, and Eve is grabbing her purse, intent on going over there now when Annalise finally picks up.

“Hey, you’re a little late,” she says, voice slow and smooth like honey.

For a moment Eve panics until she looks at her watch, realizing that twenty-five minutes isn’t enough time for this to have blown up in her face. And there’s no way Annalise would be answering so sweetly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was tired.” She clears her throat. “Annalise…I need to come over so we can talk about something.”

“Can it wait? I’m tired, too,” she sighs. “And everything hurts right now.”

“Are you-? Do you need-?”

“No,” Annalise cuts her off, “I just need some rest.” She hums, and Eve can hear a tiny smile as Annalise drawls, “Tell me about your work. That’ll put me to sleep.”

But Eve can’t appreciate the joke. Still, she talks quietly and as steady as she can until Annalise falls asleep, snoring lightly over the phone.

“What did you do, Eve?” she asks uselessly once she’s ended the call. “What did you do?”

++

“No. No! That was not part of the deal!”

A yelling Connor is not a good sign.

“Well, plans change, Mr. Walsh,” Annalise shouts back just as heatedly. Eve keeps walking into the home until she can see everyone, but all their attention is focused on each other. “There’s no statute of limitations on murder. What would you like me to do? Rewrite the entire criminal code of the state of Pennsylvania?”

He shakes his head back and forth, mouth set tightly. “You know what? Fine! Fine. But I won’t be indebted to you forever. I don’t want anything from you,” he snarls, moving toward the door. “Or you,” he directs at Eve as he passes.

Michaela throws her hands in the air. She calls for Connor as she follows him out. Laurel is hesitant, giving Annalise an inscrutable look. Eve can’t tell if it’s assurance that she’ll talk to the other two or a silent request for an explanation. Either way, Annalise doesn’t say anything so Laurel exits as well.

Annalise’s heels clack on the hardwood floor as she retrieves a folded blue paper and thrusts it at Bonnie. “Go file this, please.”

“I thought you wanted-”

“I changed my mind! So do as I said and go take it to court!”

With slow movements, Bonnie obeys, trying to connect to Annalise with a look that’s not returned. She pulls on her suit jacket, still watching as Annalise walks away.

“It’s probably not the best time,” she warns under her breath. Eve nods in understanding but doesn’t move. Bonnie spares one last sympathetic glance before closing the door.

It’s just her and Annalise.

Eve finds her in the kitchen filling her glass from a bottle of vodka.

“You can go, too.”

“Annalise, you shouldn’t be drinking.”

“People do a lot of things they shouldn’t.”

Closing her eyes for a second, Eve prepares herself for this conversation. She’s been trying since last night, but none that matters now that they’re face to face.

“Wes talked to you,” she states unnecessarily. Annalise doesn’t say anything, and Eve’s shoulders dip. She was still hoping. “He said he wouldn’t do that until I could talk to you.”

“I guess we’re all liars then.” She takes a gulp of her drink, grimacing as it goes down.

“Annalise, please don’t. I understand you’re upset, so let’s just talk about this.” Eve steps closer. Annalise is determined to stonewall her. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was only trying to help.”

“My savior,” Annalise responds sarcastically, words muffled by the glass tipped at her mouth. “You fixed everything, and everyone likes you.”

“That’s not- I wasn’t trying to do that. Wes came to my room, and I just- I made a decision in the moment. I thought he deserved to know.” She tugs at her hair, frustrated. “I didn’t tell him everything.”

“Because you don’t know everything.” Annalise chooses that moment to look at her, eyes somehow like fire and ice. “But now he expects me to tell him, and I’m not ready to do that. How does this help him, knowing his mother was killed? _How_?”

“I’m sorry, but, Annalise would you ever have been ready?” Eve waits for a response that doesn’t come. “Annalise, I understand that you want to protect him – that you’ve been looking out for him – and I think you’re amazing for it, but this thing is tearing you both apart. Why not just talk to him and explain that you tried to help his mom? Tell him that you did everything you could so he’ll stop imagining the worst?” Eve’s mouth is dry, and she swallows thickly. She can’t tell if Annalise is actually hearing her. “Annalise, you didn’t see his eyes.”

“Yes, I have! When he came at me with a gun!” She squeezes her eyes shut tight, no doubt forced to relive the moment. “He didn’t shoot you. He shot _me_!”

“That’s right. He shot you over _another_ secret, and it sounds like he had every intention to kill you! Is that what you want? To sacrifice yourself for him?” Eve flattens her palms against the countertop, holding herself steady against the waves of sickness and anger and confusion. A shouting match won’t do any good. “I appreciate that you’ve grown close to him – I do – but you clearly misjudged him at least this once, and look what’s happened. I’m terrified of that happening again.”

 _Because I love you_ , Eve wants to scream. But how selfish would that be? Betray someone’s trust, plead for forgiveness, and oh by the way, I love you so say you love me back so _I_ can feel better. God, she really is pathetic.

“It wasn’t your decision to make.”

“Annalise-”

“Please just leave.”

Eve reaches for her hand, but Annalise pulls away. Tears prick Eve’s eyes. She hesitates, not wanting to leave like this.

“Please.”

She curls her fingers into her palms and goes, despairing, numb.

++

Why did she do it? She focuses on breaking it down, trying to identify the reasons that motivated her.

There’s the obvious answer: she wants to protect Annalise. From the moment she discovered Wes shot Annalise, Eve felt danger in his presence. She doesn’t know him well, and aside from these latest incidents, he seems like a charming person. And he has an obvious talent for reading people. But the situation now is volatile – maybe it has been for awhile – and Eve wouldn’t take the chance that he’ll explode again, maybe next time with deadly accuracy.

That’s the easy answer, thinking about Annalise. It’s harder to look at herself.

She jumped into this thing so quickly, she didn’t give enough thought to the effect it would have on her psyche, how conflicted she would feel about the manipulating. She believes in protecting those who deserve it – even if sometimes you have to break the rules – but it still takes a toll. Perhaps something in her just wanted to do good.

Well, her good deed, if she can even call it that, might have just cost her everything – Annalise’s trust, a chance to move forward together. Only time will tell.

++

Eve seeks Annalise again the next day. She knows that it’s too soon, that it won’t be like last time when they talked things out then said with their hands and mouths all the things they couldn’t express in words. She knows it, but she doesn’t want Annalise to shut down and completely shut her out.

Frank smirks at her, leaving just as Eve enters. “I figured you had something to do with this.”

Bonnie slaps his arm, and he feigns hurt. They go out together, and she and Bonnie have another moment of connection. Her expression totally says _good luck_. In spite of the circumstance, Eve kind of laughs. This is not how she expected to relate with Bonnie.

Annalise hollers her associate’s name two seconds after she’s closed the door. Eve takes a big, calming breath, deciding to go through with this.

“Bonnie’s gone,” she says, walking into the office. Eve forces a smile on her face. “Anything I can help with?” Annalise looks at her, which is progress, but doesn’t say anything, just goes back to the paperwork on her desk. Eve is a little lost. She doesn’t want to stand over her, but she doesn’t want to sit in a chair meant for a stranger with that great block of wood separating them. Eve sits anyway. “Can we talk?”

“You’re sorry, I know. What else is there to say?”

“Yes, I’m sorry…but not about telling Wes the truth.” Annalise raises her eyes at this, and Eve leans forward, hoping she doesn’t break the contact. “I am sorry about lying to you. That’s what you’re really upset about.”

“Stop doing that,” Annalise says quietly. “Stop acting like you’re in my head.”

She doesn’t deny it, Eve notes. She knows Annalise doesn’t trust easily, and it hits her again just how severely she screwed up.

“I don’t mean to do that. I just- I want you to know that I’m sorry, but I could apologize a million times and it wouldn’t matter. I have to _show_ you, and that’s what I’m going to do.” She smiles, warm, sincere. “If you want space, I’ll give you space. I’ll back off for awhile. But then I’m going to call you and email and text you…about your checkups and when this case takes a crazy new turn. I’m going to tell you about some amazing show I see or ask for your opinion on a speech. I’m going to do all that because I think we’re worth it…and I have to believe you do, too.”

For a long time, she told herself that if she had fought harder – kept trying just a little longer – they could’ve worked things out twenty years ago. It was naïve and overly-romantic, but this time? They’re older, wiser, more mature and all that. This time can be different.

Annalise purses her lips, silently accepting Eve’s declaration. She blinks slowly. Eve is surprised when she pushes back her chair and stands, unsure whether Annalise is just going to walk out or what.

“Is this your thing now? Kicking me when I’m down? Did I mess you up that badly? Because you never used to do this.”

And if Eve’s heart wasn’t cracked before, it is now. She’s on her feet in a split second. Sitting on the desk puts them at about eye level, so she plants on the edge and reaches cautiously for Annalise’s hand. Eve is comforted by the fact that Annalise doesn’t shy away this time.

“Annalise, no, not at all. I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way.”

They just stare at each other, tearfully, and Eve wishes Annalise would say or do something. Curse, slap her, show her something besides hurt and disappointment.

Instead she backs away with a simple, dismissive, “I’m meeting a client.”

++

Eve tells herself she’ll get through the silent treatment. It’s easier said than done, but the practical side of her – the part that’s gotten her through heartbreak and misery – reminds her that she’s survived this before and worse. She’s gotten through it before, and if necessary, she’ll overcome it again.

++

_Can we talk?_

It’s a text from Nate. She answers _Sure_ and waits for a phone call that never comes.

Eve is still in Philadelphia – longer than she has any reason to be – and apparently he knows that because he appears at her door.

“I thought you were going to call,” she greets, letting him into the room.

“Sorry. I wanted to see you.”

“Careful, Nate,” she says, grinning. “I might get the wrong idea.”

He laughs, spreading arms and legs wide as he sits. “There you go again.”

She offers him a drink, which he declines. Eve has no idea why he’s here and them sitting without saying anything isn’t cluing her in. “So what’s up?”

“I just came from a meeting at the precinct.”

“Oh, you should’ve called me,” Eve says, sitting a little straighter. “Did they-?”

Nate waves off her concern. “Nah, it was fine, but I have been thinking. If they do fire me, I’m okay with it. Or maybe I’ll quit so they don’t have the satisfaction. The main thing is I want to be treated fairly.” He looks down at his hands, tugging at his ring finger, then looks back at her. “Will you still represent me? I’ll pay you for everything.”

“I will, but that’s not necessary.”

“No, it is,” he asserts, extremely serious. “I know you’d do it for Annalise, but I can’t be her pet project anymore. I’ll pay you, and we’ll do everything officially.”

Eve nods, a slight smile tugging her lips. “Alright, we’ll work something out if it comes to that.”

“Good. Thank you…for all of this, really.”

It’s Eve’s turn to downplay. She shakes her head. “No, thank you for calling me. I’m glad I could help.” That sums it up as neatly as she can.

Nate stands, and Eve follows. She’s honestly glad they had this chat, once again delighted that they get along well.

“Look, I know it’s none of my business, but…Are things okay with you and Annalise? I asked her about you the other day, and it didn’t go so well,” he says, which really answers his own question. Nate shrugs, looking a little embarrassed to have asked.

Eve bites her lip, debating what to say. She doesn’t care to share relationship details with him, not that she thinks he’s asking for any. It’s so…Okay, yes, they get along, but it’s still complicated.

So that’s how she answers, and he understands.

“Look out for her, okay? She’d hate knowing I said that but…I worry.” Eve smiles at him. “And take care of yourself, too.”

“Yeah, you do the same,” he rumbles in her ear, wrapping her in a big hug.

++

She probably looks like a stalker or peeping tom loitering outside the iron fence. Hopefully, no neighbors are keeping tabs on her. Eve didn’t come with the intention of just staring at the blue house; she actually wanted to see Annalise and say goodbye…for now. But she got stuck between leaving and going in, and, well, she’s still here.

A couple cars pass behind her. It seems like a nice neighborhood, quiet and well-kept, made even more attractive today by the warm weather.

One of the car doors opens, and Eve doesn’t pay much attention until she realizes it’s a taxi that’s close behind her. She turns, watching as an older woman gets out, pulling a duffle bag with her. The woman is wearing several layers as if she’s come a long distance and dressed for any possibility. When the woman looks up, Eve’s heart jumps because she knows. She just does.

“Hello,” the woman says after she catches Eve looking.

“Hi,” Eve answers, smiling.

“This house ain’t for sale, you know. Someone lives and works here.”

“Yes, I know, Mrs.- ma’am.”

The driver wheels another bag to the curb, and the woman sends him on his way with a nice tip. They’re staring at each other…well, Eve is. She blushes, shaking herself out of the awed daze. This isn’t how she planned to meet the woman, and she’ll look like a creep if she doesn’t pull herself together.

“Did we meet last time? I’m sorry I can’t remember.”

“No, we didn’t, and I don’t mean to stare. I just didn’t expect to see you.”

Eve gets a version of a penetrating look she’s seen plenty of times over the years. “So you know who I am? You’re one of Anna Mae’s – I mean, Anna _lise_ ’s friends?”

“Yes, I recognize you. Annalise has your eyes,” she says reverently, pleased by the way Annalise’s mom smiles back. "And yes, we’re friends," Eve stutters. "We actually went to law school together. I’m Eve.”

“Nice to meet you, Eve. You weren’t part of all this mess goin’ on, were you?”

“Uh, well, no…I just came to check on Annalise,” she evades, deciding it’s time to change the subject. “Would you like help with your bags? I’m sure you’re anxious to see your daughter.”

She nods, directing Eve to the duffle. They cross the yard, and Mrs. Harkness says, “I’ll tell ya, this is a much nicer welcome than I got last time.”

Once inside, Eve places the luggage on the floor, fully intending to give a polite goodbye and leave, but Annalise comes into the hallway. Her eyes bounce between them, startled, wondering how this happened. Eve holds up her palms innocently, not wanting the blame for this one.

“What are you doing here? Mama,” she clarifies, focusing on her.

“The question is: why did you wait so long to call me? Now, your friend’s been real nice, but we need to have a long talk.” She turns back to Eve, giving a brief, caring smile. “If you come ‘round later, we’ll have a nice supper.”

“Oh, no I can’t-” “She’s not staying, Mama-”

“-going back to New York today, but thank you for the offer.”

“Well, alright,” Mrs. Harkness says slowly, no doubt trying to figure out what’s going on. “Some other time then.”

Eve smiles at her. “I hope so.” She puts her hand on the door, pausing to look right at Annalise. “See you later.”

Outside, she takes a few moments to just absorb the sunshine, inhale the breeze. Eve’s almost bursting with joy.

What are the odds?

++

Annalise remains distant, doesn’t respond to anything the first week Eve tries to contact her or the second. But Eve keeps trying, continues to reach out until one day – in a fantastic, unremarkable way – Annalise reaches back.

 

End


End file.
